Provocative Peril, page 12
He was warm and loving to her, kissed her at the slightest provocation, but made no move to consummate the relationship. For the first time in her life, Carolyn discovered what frustration was all about.
Each night they had dinner together, then danced for hours. Clay would hold her against him in a possessive clasp that effectively warned any enterprising male that she was not available. Held close to him, Carolyn was fully aware of the effect she had on him. She would lay awake nights, wondering if he would break his self-imposed rule.
He never did.
Carolyn woke up depressed on her last day at the resort, knowing she wouldn't see Clay for at least another two months. So much could happen during that length of time—plans could change as well as feelings.
He was not in the room when she went downstairs, but coffee was made. Dispiritedly she poured herself a cup. The weather was in complete accord with her mood. A drizzling rain streamed down the glass wall.
Where was he? She'd grown accustomed to waking up each morning and finding him cheerfully waiting to greet her. She was going to miss that. She was going to miss so much—his teasing good nature, that lopsided grin that formed on his face when he listened to her, the softness of his beard as it brushed against her face, the strength of his arms around her, the touch of his hands.
So this is love. She'd had no idea. A feeling of peace when you're together, of unrest when you aren't. Never had two months seemed so long.
She took her time packing, stretching the chore until noon. Clay still didn't return. Carolyn finally faced the fact this could be his way of saying good-bye. Perhaps he was right.
After loading her bags in the car, she decided to eat before starting the long drive to Portland. The attractive fruit salad she ordered could have been a collection of wood chips and seaweeds for all she noticed as she systematically rearranged it on her plate.
"Am I too late for lunch?"
Her head jerked up. Clay stood there by the table, his familiar grin causing her heart to roll over in her chest. How could she possibly not have known when she first saw him that this man, above all others, was exactly her type? He stood there in a disreputable sweatshirt, well-worn jeans, and moccasins. He'd never looked better to her.
Carolyn's smile lit up the room, causing the drizzling rain outside to fade away. "I was afraid I wasn't going to have a chance to tell you good-bye," she managed to say with a degree of aplomb that surprised her.
He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. "I've never cared much for good-byes, myself."
"I had a hunch that might be the case. But you decided to make me an exception, I take it."
The waiter appeared and Clay gave him his order. "Something like that." They were both silent, each trying to memorize the other's features. "Actually, I had some thinking I needed to do, and I seem to have trouble doing that when you're around. Somehow all my thought processes keep getting fogged up."
"I know the feeling," she said, wrinkling her nose slightly.
"Good, then you'll probably understand the reason behind the suggestion I'm going to make." His serious tone caused a cold feeling to settle in her stomach. She had an idea she wasn't going to like his suggestion.
"We both know how unrealistic a vacation romance can be."
Oh, no. He's changed his mind.
"It's totally unrelated to day-to-day living."
I should have known someone like Clay wouldn't be interested in me.
"I think we need a cooling off period."
At least he waited until I was leaving to tell me. I won't have to continue to see him. I will probably never see him again. "I see."
Her quiet response seemed to help him, because he relaxed somewhat. "My idea is this: We go back to our regular lives and routines. We won't call or write each other. We need to remember that we haven't made any commitments, so you should feel free to date . . . and I'll do the same."
Oh, Clay, why are you bothering with any explanation? I understand. The fantasy is over. "If that's what you want."
"I think it's the most sensible arrangement. Then we'll see how we feel after a couple of months without contact with each other." He continued to stare at her. "I'm going to miss you like hell," he finally muttered.
Her heart lightened with his words. "I'm glad to hear it. I've grown rather used to having you around, myself. I guess that happens when you share a vacation with someone else."
"Just remember that the only vacations you're going to share from now on will be with me."
Her brows lifted slightly. "Oh? What about all the men I'm going to be seeing for the next two months."
She watched with interest as he clamped his jaw around the protest she saw forming. "Yeah, well, I guess I hadn't thought about your finding someone else so quickly."
"The same could happen with you, you know."
"No, it won't! I'll be too damn busy to waste my time. I want to get finished down there as soon as I can."
"So why the complete break between us, then?" she asked, curious about his reasoning,
"Because I want you to be sure of what you want."
She stared at him in silence and with sudden insight saw how painful it had been for him to make that offer. He was trying to be fair. Couldn't he see that there was no reason for him to be so cautious? She loved him. She always would, no matter what happened to their relationship.
Clay walked her to her car, frowning at the rain that fell all around the covered area where they stood. "You'll be careful driving back? Those mountain roads can be treacherous in this kind of weather."
"Of course I will. Don't worry about me."
"Call me as soon as you get home."
"I thought our agreement was—"
"To hell with the agreement. I need to know you made it home safely."
"All right."
They stood there inches apart, neither one wanting to make the first move to leave. Clay's face looked grim when he spoke. "I love you." He made it sound as though it were an accusation.
"I love you, too," she replied with quiet conviction.
He pulled her roughly against him, as though his self-restraint had finally snapped. "I hope so. Dear God, I hope so." His mouth found hers with an urgency that she matched, his kiss almost bruising in its intensity. Then he pushed her away with trembling hands, opened the door to her car and helped her get in.
As she drove out of the parking lot Clay wondered if he was a fool for gambling on their future. Only time would tell.
Chapter 10
Pam and Susie eagerly bombarded her with questions. It was her second night home and they demanded to hear everything.
"What did the men look like?"
"Were there many eligible males?"
"What was the ratio between single men and women?"
"Did you find your one and only love?"
Carolyn laughingly held up her hands to protect herself from their verbal assault. "Am I really supposed to answer all of those questions?"
Pam, her short, curly hair bouncing around her animated face, pointed out, "We wouldn't have to ask all of them if you'd kindly explain to us everything that happened while you were there."
Susie tucked a sandy red wave behind one of her ears and nodded in agreement. "Start with the first day and proceed from there."
All three sat cross-legged around a large bowl of popcorn in the middle of Carolyn's living room. She still wasn't sure how much she was ready to share about Clay.
"It would take me three weeks to tell you minute-by-minute all the things there are to do, but I'll try to remember the highlights." She took time out for a mouthful of popcorn, then took a drink from the glass filled with ice and Coke clutched in her left hand. "There were several good-looking men. I don't know the ratio, but I met a tall, dark and handsome dentist from Bend"—both women applauded—"a gorgeous hunk of beautiful brown body who was a model and lived in Malibu"— simultaneous gasps echoed—"a famous writer—"
"What famous writer?" they asked together.
"Kenneth Clay."
"Kenneth Clay! You mean the guy who writes about Derringer Drake?" Pam's brown eyes seemed to expand in her face.
"Yep, the one and only. Selena Stanford was there to see him—"
"Selena Stanford, the actress?" they chorused, in unison.
"Do you guys practice or does that come naturally?" She grabbed another handful of popcorn.
"How can you sit there so calmly?" Susie demanded. "Tell us about him. What's he like? Was he friendly? Did you get his autograph? Did he ever talk to you?"
There was no way she could share with them what had happened. They'd never understand. She wasn't even sure she understood it, herself. Clay's reputation—actually, it was Kenneth Clay's reputation—did not make believable the fact that they had shared the same room for three weeks and nothing had happened.
She smiled. Quite a lot had happened, but nothing she could possibly explain at the moment.
"Would you look at the smile on her face? Talk about the cat with the canary! You can almost see the feathers." Pam looked at her in disgust. "Come on, now. Remember, we were the ones who persuaded you to take this trip and helped you to get ready for it. You would never have gone, otherwise."
"I know, and I want to thank you both for all your helpful hints and timely suggestions . . . but—"
"But what?" Susie demanded to know.
"I don't have all that much to report."
"You mean nobody made a pass at you?"
"You mean you weren't even tempted to go to bed with anyone?"
"You mean you came back to Portland in the same innocent condition in which you left?" Susie asked with a groan.
"Something like that."
Pam and Susie exchanged glances, then shrugged. "Well, we tried," Pam offered.
"I really did have a great time. Do you want to hear about some of the things I did?"
Susie leaned back on her elbow and stretched out her legs in front of her. "Sure. Did you find any pets to mother?" she asked with a grin.
"Not exactly. I did make the acquaintance of a disgruntled gull and an inquisitive octopus, though."
Both friends listened to Carolyn's collection of stories of her vacation with resigned affection. They loved her dearly, but decided to give up trying to help her find Romance. She just didn't have the personality to attract a man.
❧
Carolyn had been home for ten days when the phone rang late one night. She fumbled in the dark for the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Damn. I woke you up."
"Clay?" She suddenly lunged into an upright position.
"Look, I forgot how late it was. Go on back to sleep."
"Don't you dare hang up!" She clutched the phone with both hands as though she could stop him. "What's wrong? Why are you calling?"
"Nothing's wrong, exactly."
"I thought we weren't going to be in contact with each other for two months."
"Yeah, that was the plan, but I discovered it was a really stupid plan. You see, I've developed a hell of a problem."
"What's wrong?"
"I miss you like hell, that's what's wrong. So how have you been?"
She smiled into the dark. "About the same." She heard his warm chuckle wing across the wires.
"As you can tell, I'm back into the life down here where no one would think of going to bed before two o'clock. I really am sorry I woke you."
"I'm not."
"So. Are you dating anyone these days?"
"Oh, as a matter of fact, I am. I'm out every night." There was silence at the other end of the line. She went on. "I've managed to meet seven men and I rotate them. It's easier that way. I don't get confused as to what night I see them. Jim on Monday, Larry, Tuesday—"
"Carolyn?"
"Yes?"
"We really need to talk about your sense of humor. That, for instance, was not funny."
"Oh."
"No. Because you see, for a minute there I thought you were serious, and I never want to feel what I just felt again. Okay?"
"I'm sorry." She searched her mind frantically for another subject. "How's the production going?"
"Great. We've had some excellent response from previews. The new series looks to go the whole season."
"That's good news, isn't it?"
"I suppose ... so long as they'll let me send them scripts from the Pacific Northwest. I'm ready to come home."
"When will that be?"
"Not much before the end of October, I'm afraid."
"That should give me time to get caught up on my reading."
"Carolyn?" His tone was ominous. "Are you still reading all that stuff about how to attract a man?"
"Not exactly. I'm getting acquainted with Derringer Drake."
A short silence greeted her. In a cautious tone, Clay asked, "You've been reading my books?"
"Uh-huh. It's a great way to learn how your mind works."
"But Carolyn, love, those are just fantasies. I mean, they don't have anything to do with real life."
"Of course they do. They're what you want life to be. Now I'm better able to understand why you so chivalrously offered to share your room with me."
"You are?"
"Certainly. You would probably have slain dragons as well, if they were indigenous to the Oregon coast."
More silence. "I'm really not such a shining knight, you know."
"You're not? What a shame. Should I wait until a shinier one comes along?"
"How about if I run my armor through the carwash before I get there. Would that do it?"
Trying not to laugh, she replied, "I'm sure of it."
"I've got to go, love. There are people waiting for me. See you in October."
"Yes," she responded softly as she heard the phone go dead.
❧
After a month back at work, Carolyn remembered her vacation more as a dream or as though it had happened to someone else. She had never regretted not telling Pam and Susie about her vacation roommate. They would never have let her forget all of her missed opportunities.
With no one in the shop that afternoon, she had too much time to think, and against her will, she found her thoughts returning to Clay. She remembered his late-night call and wondered if he ever thought about her. He had sounded so warm and caring. She wished she had more experience with men. Maybe everything he'd told her was a line. Effective, but a line, nevertheless.
And for what purpose? Certainly not seduction. At least Carolyn could be honest with herself. She wasn't sorry they hadn't made love. She knew herself too well to attempt a casual affair, no matter how her friends had tried to convince her differently. Her feelings for Clay were far from casual, but she knew she would have been feeling much worse had she gone to bed with him.
She was even happier that she hadn't shared her holiday experiences with her friends a few days later when Pam came rushing into the shop, waving a well-known national magazine.
"Look who's been interviewed in Playmate magazine!" Carolyn glanced around the small shop, glad there were no customers to hear Pam as she continued. "According to the cover, Kenneth Clay reveals all—about his writing, his adventures, and his women—sounds interesting."
Pam didn't notice Carolyn's color fade, leaving her pale as Pam placed the magazine in front of her, opened to the article. Clay's infectious smile greeted her from the slick surface of the page, his blue eyes glinting devilishly.
"He looks like some kind of pirate, doesn't he?" Pam volunteered, staring intently at the picture as she casually leaned her elbows on the counter. "I had no idea he was so handsome." She turned the page, then paused. "Wow! Would you look at that? I wonder who she is."
Carolyn had already spotted the extremely attractive young woman. She had a glorious reddish-gold mane cascading over her shoulders, the same shoulders enfolded by Clay's arm as they both smiled for the camera.
Pam began to read. "Kenneth Clay, the world-famous author, relaxes at his luxury apartment overlooking the Pacific Ocean near Santa Monica. Clay believes in authentic details in his writing. Whether his story takes him into the deepest jungles, or the most rugged mountains, Clay insists on in-depth research before he begins each new book. The lovely Leonie Remington (shown above) gives ample evidence that at least part of his research can be quite enjoyable."
Pam looked up with a grin. "I wouldn't mind helping him research some of those love scenes he writes." Her elbow gently nudged Carolyn. "How about you?"
Carolyn couldn't seem to move her eyes from the picture of Clay and Leonie. Their pose was casual, yet it suggested an intimacy of long standing. She studied the various poses of Clay, some including Leonie, others obviously taken in the wilds somewhere.
"Ken Clay was quite open about his writing and his lifestyle." Pam continued to read out loud. "Quoting the author, 'I spend a great deal of time traveling and I don't have the time or inclination to form commitments of any type.' When asked if he had given any thought to marriage, Clay laughed and said no. When asked how Leonie felt about his attitude, his rakish grin flashed as he admitted, 'The subject has never come up.'"
Why was she surprised? And why did she think that theirs had been anything but a typical vacation romance? She remembered the look on Clay's face when he'd said, "I'll want you to marry me, but I don't want an answer right now." She was so glad that she hadn't given him one—that she hadn't made a complete fool of herself. Then she remembered asking him to make love to her and mentally cringed from the memory. All right. She'd been foolish and naive, and no doubt he'd had a great deal of amusement at her expense. It could have been worse.
"C'mon, Carolyn, what do you think? Is this the real scoop on Kenneth Clay?" Pam was staring at her with amused curiosity, waiting to be filled in on any details not printed.
Carolyn shrugged. "I have no idea. I really didn't find out much about him." Except the feel of his arms around me, the soft brush of his beard against my cheek, the feeling of being cared for and protected and—yes, loved.
Pam shook her head. "You're really impossible, you know that? How you could have blown such an opportunity, I'll never know." She flipped the magazine closed.
